Conflicted Short Story
by BlessedDrops
Summary: Story about a young orphan who becomes a detective after the death of his foster mother's family.However, all evidence now points towards his foster father Mr. Curtis in which he struggles to believe is the criminal even after ten years...


**Short Story **

As I stand in my office, the full moon shines brilliantly against the dark night sky and illuminates the rain as it races down towards the city streets. But all I can think about is death.

It's been ten years since that day and I'm still trying to convince myself that it wasn't him who killed our family. How could it be him when he was the first one to offer up his love to me when no one else would?

As a child, I remember that when he first arrived at the orphanage with his jet black car, everyone thought the mayor himself was coming to visit. We could all tell this man was rich so naturally all the other orphans lined up eagerly and tried to entice him into taking each of them home with him. I wasn't as nearly interested in the man or his money. When he walked around the orphanage the headmaster was making great strides to make him feel at home. It was quite embarrassing to say the least and it always frustrated me to see the old coot in such a cheery mood. He was a cruel old man and always directed his anger at some unfortunate child. I was his latest object of ridicule after I accidently smashed a plate he claimed was porcelain. Regardless, I directed my focus on a book I managed to smuggle from the local library. I occasionally glanced to see the headmaster talking with him. I could tell that he didn't look the least bit interested in what he was saying. Something else had caught his attention.

I continue to stare mindlessly at the view from my office until my thoughts are interrupted by a loud knocking at the door to my office.

"Hey detective, you in there?"

"Won't everyone just leave me alone already?" I reply to the voice against the door.

"I thought I told you that I won't go. Do I have to say it again?"

I was furious. I don't even have time to think around here.

"Please don't be like that sir." He sounds pathetic. "Can I come in?"

I give up and decide to open the door. Judging by how he looked at me as I opened the door, he could tell that I was pissed off. But how could I not be? There was no way that I was simply going to go and dig up the man's grave. He's dead dammit. He's been dead for ten years.

"Look sir, "Starts the officer as I sit in my chair.

"I know it must be hard for you to have others trying to peg the murder on your father. But you know as well as I do that he's a suspect, no matter how you look at it."

I lean my body against my desk and hold my hands over my face. I know that. I was just trying to avoid it the best I could. This whole investigation is a lie and they knew it just as well as I did.

"I know," I say. "I just can't understand why."

"Well, we'll never know if we don't examine the body."

I never even saw the body as a kid. And I certainly don't want to see it now. It's probably either empty or fake. He would probably be able to arrange something like that.

"Look sir, just try not to worry about it okay? We're actually worried about you out there." he says to me as he heads out the door.

"Get outta of here." I respond jokingly as he smiles and heads back toward the main office.

Our eyes first met as soon as he entered the small living room of the orphanage. He was a very tall man with short honey brown hair who wore a very elegant suit that glistened against the sunlight. But what really struck me were his bright green eyes that were a perfect match to the neatly pressed emerald tie he was wearing. When he first approached me, I pretended not to see him. I tried to cover my face with the book I was reading. But that failed as soon as the headmaster barked at me to show myself to Mr. Curtis. As soon as I put the book down, I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes in response.

The headmaster looked like he was about to kill me.

Mr. Curtis just laughed. "It looks like I'm quite the distraction!"

"But I don't blame you," he said as he leaned against the arm rest of the chair I was sitting on.

"Sherlock Homes is a fantastic read."

I still remember that great big smile he had on his face when he first introduced himself to me.

I shook his hand to be polite and he seemed quite pleased with the gesture.

"Well now, it seems that not only do you have a good taste in books but you're quite the gentleman as well!"

I smiled back and thanked him. But God did the headmaster stare hard at me. If looks could kill, he was capable of it. I could feel my smile being slowly drained away by his presence.

When Mr. Curtis asked what other books I enjoyed, I hesitated. I think he could tell that I felt uncomfortable around the headmaster so he politely asked him to leave. He looked so dumbstruck and darted out of the room like some sort of scared rat.

"Better?" asked Mr. Curtis as he turned towards me.

I nodded shyly in response but then reconsidered my answer.

"But don't tell him that!" I said alarmed.

"Don't worry," he replied laughing. "Even after all these years I still can't stand the man."

After he told me that he also lived in the orphanage, I had found myself quickly warming up to him each time he visited me. As it turned out, Mr. Curtis was a lawyer who was unable to have children with his wife Norah who was a beautiful actress. He always spoke very fondly of her and kept a picture of her in the left breast pocket over his heart. He expressed to me her sorrow after her miscarriage and his desire to return her to high spirits once more.

One day, the moment finally came when he asked me if I wanted to come home with him.

He was standing against the bedroom door looking down at me in hesitation. I guess he thought it was still too soon to ask. Yet he had no idea how much I wanted him to whisk me away from this prison. When he finally asked me I broke down in tears. He was so shocked that at first he didn't know how to react and he frantically tried to console me. I started to laugh over my tears after I told him that I couldn't be happier. He looked so relieved to hear this from me that we both erupted into laughter. It was also the first time in a very long while that anyone had held me in their arms.

I hear the footsteps of two men approaching my office, but I don't even bother turning around as they enter the door. Something about taking off early. I wave my arm and shoo them off. As if I care.

Just leave alone. I wrap my arms around my body. "How sad am I?" I say miserably to myself.

His house was everything like I imagined it would be. Big, spacious, a home as majestic as a castle fit for a king and his queen. When I first met Norah she did seem a little hesitant to meet me. But after her husband reassured her, she loved me right away. She was a wonderful woman with bouncy blond hair and with eyes as blue as the ocean. But her most defining feature was her smile which comforted Mr. Curtis more than anything in the world.

I finally felt like I was needed, that I belonged.

But most importantly, I felt loved.

There is that damn knocking again. What could it possibly be now?

"Sir, someone's here to see you."

"Who?" I ask "It's two in the morning for Christ's sake."

"He claims to be the killer of the Maxwell family case. Should I send him in?"

Great, I think to myself. Another dim wit claiming to be the killer. I don't even know why I agree to see this idiot. I guess I'm just trying to amuse myself. I could always use him as bait like those other unfortunate fools.

"Let see what he has to say." I say as I shake my head.

I can't take this anymore. I know it's him!

The rain poured harder now against the window as if it understood the anger in my heart. Or was it despair? I can't tell anymore.

Yes.

Mr. Curtis was certainly happy to have the world finally spinning in his direction again.

But his world soon fell apart once more when Norah was diagnosed with cancer. This I'm afraid I could not heal.

"One tragedy after another it seems." I heard him whisper quietly to himself one night.

We were both devastated and when she passed away I cried endlessly.

He however didn't shed a tear. He just walked around aimlessly around the house as if he were searching for something. He also left the house frequently and locked himself up in his office.

Norah's family, the Maxwell's, agreed to organise her funeral. He never got along with them and he seemed rather dissatisfied after they informed him of their plans.

When the day arrived, I managed to catch a terrible cold.

He refused to take me with him and advised me to stay home in bed instead.

Instead of arguing with him, I went straight to bed. He had a melancholy look in his eyes and before he left me he had said the strangest thing across from my bedroom door.

"Promise me that you'll love me no matter what happens." He said softly.

I frowned. I didn't understand what he meant at the time but I remember telling him that I would forever. And that's the last image I still have of him. Some considered it a miracle that I didn't end up going to the funeral because it was then and there that a great majority of the Maxwell house was murdered, including my adoptive father. Apparently gunshots were fired from a passing car as the ceremony was proceeding.

"Detective Curtis!" I jump at the sound of my name. I whip my head around to see who it is. It's the same officer from before.

"What is it?" I ask startled. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"No sir. I'm- I'm sorry" he stammers.

"It's about the guy who turned himself in. "

"Did you identify him?"

"Umm no sir. But he told us that you know him."

I nearly go into hysteria. Are you kidding me?

I slam my fist on my desk and blurt out insults in rage.

He became aware of his mistake and without another word he flees from my office.

It was my Uncle, Norah's brother William who decided to take me in. The police never identified the culprit and I slowly became obsessed with the idea of catching the criminal myself. My uncle did everything to keep me from becoming a detective but I couldn't be convinced otherwise. However, as I slowly started to put the pieces together, everything I found lead me to him. From the phone calls to the malicious letters to killers, he was the one who arranged the whole fiasco and left me alone to fend for myself. When I first found out I nearly killed myself out of grief. I hated him for the crime but I loved him all the same. I even gathered up the strength to erase all the evidence that traced back to him. How I managed to keep the case alive for ten godforsaken years I'll never know.

Suddenly, the officer returns to the room with the man. I ask him to leave me with the man as I keep staring at the rain hitting against the window. He seems hesitant to do so, but after I reassure him he leaves.

The man sits in the chair across from my desk and I start quietly laughing to myself.

"You're not fooling anyone, "I say.

"No matter how much he paid you I still won't label you as the killer."

The man starts laughing hysterically. Before I can react, there is a cool midnight black gun aimed straight against my forehead.

"Please," he says as he drills the gun into my skull.

"I wouldn't even think about doing something as stupid as that."

I stare at him long and hard. Time may have aged him but his eyes would always give him away. But somehow they were no longer the same as I remembered them. They were a violent green, like a vicious cat. Even now, I hated him as a criminal but I loved him as a father.

Two conflicting feelings that would torment me forever, even after death.


End file.
